Rise

by Karina Bliss

  “That depends on whether she increases my workload.”

  They reached the silver-shingled rotunda. Two hexagonal sections had been walled in for a wet bar, barbecue prep area, and to house a stone fireplace. All scaled to the lifestyle of their larger-than-life owner, currently holding court at the head of a wood-slab table. Rage’s drummer, Seth, and lead guitarist, Moss, sat on opposite sides of the table, each of them flanked by pretty honey-blondes. A third perched on Moss’s knee.

  Zander had his Stetson tilted against the setting sun, a crystal tumbler of vodka—water—in his hand. Wearing a check shirt, its sleeves rolled up over his forearms, and a black waistcoat, he reminded Elizabeth of a sun-gilded gunslinger, all lounging grace and coiled muscle.

  As usual when his male beauty caught her unawares, she caught her breath, then exhaled slowly and carefully. As they drew nearer, he stood and took off his hat, the mannerly gesture belied by the accusatory stare he leveled at her.

  Still mad.

  She smiled at him and the scowl deepened. Shade, she thought happily.

  “If Zee and Stormy end up getting back together, it’s your fault,” Dimity said beside her.

  Some of Elizabeth’s cheerfulness ebbed away.

  “You,” Zander growled by way of greeting, “are a troublemaker.”

  “Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” His eyes narrowed and she added quickly, “You did a good thing.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He turned to introduce her. “You know Seth.”

  Puzzled, Rage’s New Zealand drummer stood to shake her hand. “Auckland,” she said, helping him out. “Briefly before the concert. I’m biographer Version Three, Elizabeth Winston.”

  “A pleasure to meet you again.” His eyes were a very dark blue with a roguish spark in their depths. In the sun, his hair gleamed the same dark auburn of her sister Marti’s. That, combined with his Kiwi accent, stabbed her with unexpected homesickness.

  Seth smiled at Dimity. “Hey Sarge, miss me?”

  “I’m still on leave. Privates are invisible until we fly out.”

  “Then you’ll look at them?”

  Dimity stared pointedly at his date, who was leaning across the table talking to the others.

  “Part of Moss’s entourage, not mine,” Seth said cheerfully. “Play your cards right tonight and I’m all yours.”

  Interesting, Elizabeth thought.

  “Stop analyzing,” Zander muttered in her ear, making her jump. “You’re here as a civilian too.” He broke into the others’ conversation. “Moss, maybe you’d like to introduce your dates.”

  If the devil in Seth’s eyes had an impish quality, the one lurking in the lead guitarist’s green depths was a denizen of darker climes. “Good to see you again, Elizabeth. This is Kimberly,” he indicated the woman beside him, “and Cleo,” he touched the bare shoulder of the blonde on his knee. “And their friend Kat.” He gestured to the beauty sitting opposite, next to Seth.

  “Nice to meet you,” Elizabeth said warmly.

  Three female gazes dismissed her, and returned to feasting on man flesh.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Dimity said, ignoring them. As they headed to the bar she said to her boss. “Where are Jared and Kayla?”

  “I don’t know.” Zander glanced at his watch. “They should be here by now.”

  “Jared might have left a message on the house phone. I’ll go check shortly.” At the bar, Dimity poured two chilled white wines, handed one to Elizabeth. “FYI, don’t expect friendliness from the groupies.”

  “The three non-blondes?” When Dimity lifted a brow, she added, “Their highlights could have come out of the same bottle.”

  “Wow,” said the PA, toasting her. “Look at you being all bitchy.”

  Guiltily, Elizabeth sipped her wine. “Their rudeness makes it easy.”

  “It’s a small window captivating a rock star, they have to make the most of it.”

  “Wow.” She chinked glasses with the younger woman. “Look at you being all tolerant.”

  “I’m still mad at you,” warned Dimity as she left.

  “Who isn’t,” Elizabeth muttered glumly. Zander had left the table and was firing up the barbecue. It didn’t surprise her that he could cook. He’d helped run a household when his dad was ill. “Mom needed us to eat well, so she taught me,” he said when she wandered over and asked. “And she needed to eat well, so I learned. But you’re not working tonight, remember?”

  Reluctantly, Elizabeth joined the others. In Auckland, she’d known nothing about Rage’s new recruits, but she’d done her research since then. Moss had been kicked off the show for “not wanting it enough” midseason and been reinstated by viewer—female—demand. Zander had said the firing wasn’t staged, that Moss had been holding back to safeguard himself against disappointment. “If you’re in with me, you’re all in.”

  Sitting opposite, it struck her that for all Moss’s carelessness he was as observant as she was, refilling her empty glass, without looking up from his multiple flirtations. “Thank you.” Their gazes met briefly and he gave her a curt nod that felt oddly like approval.

  She tried to talk to Kat beside her, failed and then had better luck with Seth. “We’re on a break,” he confided when she asked after the girlfriend who’d talked him into auditioning. “Her idea, not mine.”

  Easygoing and unaffected, he seemed easy pickings for Kat, except the blonde wasn’t making headway at all. Seth flirted, he charmed, but he reminded Elizabeth of a puppy—warm and adorable but always wiggling away.

  When Kat’s hand crept up his thigh, he picked it up and kissed it, then excused himself to go stand at the barbecue with Zander. Moss’s gaze followed him, concern in his hooded green eyes.

  A prickle on the back of her neck made Elizabeth glance up. Zander was shaking his head at her. Stop analyzing.

  She grinned.

  Dimity reappeared around the corner of the house with the bass guitarist. Jared carried a grumpy baby and held the hand of a sulky little girl trailing a rag doll.

  Elizabeth remembered he had children. And the horror in Zander’s expression suggested he wasn’t expecting them.

  “I couldn’t find a sitter at short notice,” Jared explained, managing to look both frazzled and sexily soulful. “Kayla’s mom snapped her Achilles playing tennis this afternoon and she’s still at the hospital.”

  The whimpering baby held out chubby arms to Zander who shook his head. “No, buddy that was a onetime thing. Maybe Dimity…”

  His PA recoiled.

  “Will he come to me?” Elizabeth asked. Gratefully, Jared gave her the baby.

  “Elizabeth, isn’t it?” he said, his dark gaze pleasant. “And that’s Rocco you’re holding.”

  Rocco responded to her smile by dropping his lip.

  “I’m Madison and I’m four.” The little girl tugged at her skirt. “How old are you?”

  She smiled at her. “Thirty-five.” The baby started to whimper and she bounced him.

  “That’s old,” said Madison.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” murmured the blonde on Moss’s knee and the other two snickered.

  Madison studied them with a child’s unblinking stare. “You’re too big to sit on someone’s lap,” she informed the blonde, making everyone laugh.

  Zander retreated to the barbecue. Rocco only wanted his Daddy and Elizabeth returned him. As Dimity presented the little girl an orange juice, she glanced up. “Oh look, here’s Stormy,” she said, a note of malicious delight in her tone. “What is she wearing?”

  A shimmering slip of a dress, white and beaded with crystals. The model had piled her platinum hair artfully on top of her head and loose tendrils tumbled around the diamond drops in her earlobes.

  Stormy’s thick lashes fluttered nervously as she registered everyone’s casual attire and her glossy mouth formed an “O” of dismay.

  Her steps faltered and she stopped at the perimeter of light, her si
lhouette like Jessica Rabbit’s, her expression closer to a frightened hare. Bursts of light sparked off the crystals in her dress.

  “Is that a prin-ce-uss?” said Madison in an awed voice.

  “Come on in,” Zander called, busy flipping burgers. “Dimity will get you a drink.”

  Dimity scowled, so Elizabeth moved forward. “Lovely to see you again.”

  “I…I thought it was a cocktail party.” Stormy glanced at Dimity as she spoke.

  Dimity said cheerfully, “Champagne, isn’t it?” and went to open a bottle.

  “Maybe I misheard,” Stormy said in a small voice.

  Oh honey, Elizabeth thought, you need a friend. She indicated the small girl. “Madison thinks you’re a princess.”

  Stormy’s expression lightened and she crouched down to the child’s level. “That’s so sweet, thank you.”

  “I want to be a prin-ce-uss too when I grow up,” Madison said. “With a pet dragon who eats all the people I don’t like.” She looked toward Zander and glowered.

  “Let me introduce you around,” said Elizabeth hastily. It was Dimity’s job, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. “You know the band already?”

  “We met at the relaunch after Zee and I broke up. Hi guys.”

  Moss and Seth were friendly, but the three non-blondes glared in hostile silence.

  Elizabeth smiled at them. “I’m so sorry, but you’ll need to remind me of your names.”

  * * *

  Zander had hosted some crazy gatherings over the years but this had to be the most bizarre. To his right, bookended by Dimity and Stormy, were Jared and his kids, the baby fretful. To his left, his leather-clad bandmates and Moss’s pouting model dates. And opposite, a redhead in classic white shirt and tailored pants, so assiduously offering second helpings that she could have posed for a Norman Rockwell painting.

  Beers lined up against a baby bottle and a sippy cup. A doll—not a blow-up—slumped against a wine bottle. Even Moss’s customary hooded-eyed cool couldn’t withstand the juvenile onslaught. He and Madison were engaged in a stare-down across the table. The lead guitarist blinked first. Shaking his head with a grin, Moss stood and walked to the bar for another beer, trailed by one of his models, who murmured, “God, this is boring. When can we leave?”

  Why the hell hadn’t Zander said no to bringing dates? Because he wanted to include Jared’s wife Kayla ahead of the tour. And she wasn’t even here.

  This evening was supposed to be a band bonding exercise, refocusing the guys on the job ahead. He glanced at his assistant, who was staring darkly into her wineglass, ignoring Seth’s attempts to tease her.

  “Dimity, how about giving these lovely ladies a house tour? Take Stormy with you.” Ignored by every woman except his biographer, his ex had defaulted to flirting with Moss, which served his snotty dates right but only fueled tensions.

  Without looking at him, Dimity downed her drink and held out her glass for Seth to refill. “Sorry, I’m attending as a drone tonight.”

  What the hell did that mean?

  “I’m bored too.” Madison swung off Jared’s chair. “Why can’t I have a swim, Daddy? He has a pool.”

  And why did the brat hate him so much?

  “I told you honey, it’s too late.” Jared tried to give Rocco a bottle, but the baby wouldn’t settle.

  “Let me try, please,” Stormy begged and took the infant. Rocco blinked at all the glittering crystals and stopped crying.

  “Now we can go swimming,” said Madison.

  “Jesus,” Zander muttered, “and I thought I was a full-time job.” Moss and his date, he noticed, hadn’t returned to the table.

  Jared’s cell rang and he said distractedly to his daughter, “Hang on, honey… Kayla? Wait a sec… Keep an eye on Maddie,” he said to Zander and walked away.

  He and Madison stared at each other, equally horrified.

  Doc saved him. “How about you and I play Tic Tac Toe?” Waving the little girl over, Elizabeth found one of her ubiquitous pens and spread out a paper napkin. “Do you want to be noughts or crosses?”

  Zander heaved a sigh of relief.

  There was something intrinsically decent about his biographer. And decent wasn’t a word he even liked, associating it with small-minded, suburban curtain twitchers. But Elizabeth’s decency was of a crusader’s—resolute and practical. Resonating to the values of his childhood, values Zander hadn’t been able to sustain.

  Watching her, he became conscious of melancholy, of a pang of nostalgia for times he rarely revisited, because he could do nothing to change the past. Only—if he let himself—be bound helpless by it. And Zander refused to be helpless.

  “Fuck this,” Kat muttered to Cleo. “Let’s go have a smoke.” She rested a hand lightly on Zander’s upper thigh. “Join us?”

  He touched his nicotine patch. “Thanks, but I’m trying to give up.” What, exactly, he wasn’t sure.

  “Too bad.” The two models wandered into the dark. A flicker of light briefly illuminated Kat’s perfect face as she lit a cigarette.

  “In our house,” Elizabeth said to Madison, “we call noughts and crosses hugs and kisses.”

  Idly, Zander imagined playing hugs and kisses with his biographer and found the idea surprisingly erotic. In Vegas, she’d been Diana of the Hunt in that green satin gown, fire in her hair and cool resolve in her eyes as she waited patiently for him to break cover. Reveal himself. It turned him on.

  And through his heated argument with Travis, she’d remained calm and collected. Did she carry that composure into bed? It would be quite something to make her lose control. And Zander wasn’t one to refuse a challenge.

  The acrid pungency of marijuana drifted into the pavilion. Madison stuck her nose in the air. “What’s that funny smell?”

  “What the hell!” Zander twisted toward the bar. “Moss, we have kids here.”

  “I’ll sort it.” He strode into the dark, Kimberley trailing behind him. There was the sound of female complaints and then giggles, both fading as the party moved farther into a grove of trees.

  “I wanna play hide and seek too,” Madison said.

  “That makes two of us, kid.” Zander stood and headed to the fridge. “But let’s settle for ice cream.”

  She was halfway through her second bowl before Jared returned, his expression gutted. “Kayla’s mom is out of action for six weeks at least. She can’t come on tour to help out with the kids. Now Kayla’s talking about staying home.”

  Finally, Zander thought, good news. “Maybe it’s for the best; it’s tough on the road for children.” He could get Dimity to ditch the family-friendly hotels, rebook them at the Ritz in London. He glanced at his PA, but she was giving the evil eye to Stormy.

  “No, Daddy, we have to come.” Madison threw down her spoon. “I have to see the palace.”

  “Buckingham Palace in London,” Jared explained.

  “Is it him?” She swung round to glare at Zander. “Did that man say we couldn’t come?”

  He threw up his hands. “Nothing to do with me, darlin’, I couldn’t have imagined anything nicer than having you along.”

  Moss and his entourage returned, his lids more hooded, the girls breathlessly giggly. They had wet hair and their clothes clung damply to their bodies. “We found your pool,” he said with his lazy smile, “and went—”

  “Swimming!” howled Madison.

  * * *

  Stormy took charge, handing Jared the baby and escorting the sobbing little girl straight to the pool. The Greek Tragedy made Rocco poop and even marijuana couldn’t mask that smell. Jared changed the baby’s diaper in front of the fire, while venting to Zander about how much he missed his family on the road and how tough it was on Kayla. Zander forced himself to stand there feigning sympathy and trying not to breathe. Elizabeth made soothing noises.

  Seth and Moss escaped with the dates and out of the corner of his eye, Zander saw Dimity pick up another bottle of wine. Figuring there was one headac
he he could prevent, he excused himself to steer his PA away from the bar. “What the hell is going on with you? Is it Seth?”

  “No.” She wrestled with the screw-top of the wine bottle. “God no, he’s still in love with thingamabob. His old girlfriend.” She glanced around for a clean glass. “I’m having a good time on your dime, like the other bimbos here.”

  “What?” Confiscating the bottle, he poured her water from the jug on the table. “Not Elizabeth.”

  “No, but she is responsible for that drone staying.”

  “Stormy? This is about me helping Stormy out?” He was aware Dimity disliked his ex, but when they’d dated she’d maintained a professional politeness. “She’s hit a rough patch and needs my support.”

  “Aren’t implants self-supporting?”

  “Why are you acting like a jealous girlfriend? It’s creeping me out.”

  She put her hands on her skinny hips. “I hate seeing her take advantage of you.”

  “Maybe I deserve it. You saw the shit I put her through. She’s unhappy.”

  “We’re all unhappy, Zee, but some of us fix our own problems.”

  He was startled. “You’re unhappy?”

  “She’s only out for what she can get.”

  “You’re wrong about that.” If Dimity didn’t want to share confidences, he sure as hell wasn’t going to force the issue. “Stormy doesn’t look at relationships in the transactional way you and I do,” he said.

  “Then she’s not just a drone, she’s an idiot.”

  Stormy didn’t need more shit to deal with and neither did he. Zander tried to be reasonable. “Dimity, you’re not only my right-hand woman, you’re my friend. And as your friend I’m asking you to play nice.”

  She parodied Stormy’s pout. “I don’t wanna.”

  “Fine, we’ll revert to our professional relationship.” He yanked cash out of his jeans pocket. “Let’s consider the rest of the night overtime. Now stop being a bitch and go ask Stormy if she needs help with that overtired brat.”

  “Keep your money.” Eyes bright, she lifted her chin. “On her own time, this bitch is leaving.”